Alphabet Soup
by Miss Trouillefou
Summary: With all the things that happen in Camelot, this just doesn't surprise me. But by God when I wake up, Merlin is going to pay for it. Language and sexual content.


Chapter One: A is for Asleep.

I woke up asleep. A paradox, yes, but absolutely true. My mind was wide awake yet I had no command of my body: eyes closed, breathing relaxed and even, my hands folded atop my naked stomach, silken sheets kept in place by my thumbs. I could not be sure of how long I lay like that though I believed it had been less than an hour, but one as no concept of time when he or she can only see darkness. Birds were chirping, singing those lighthearted songs of spring. People chattered outside as they presumably started their days. What was wrong with me? Why couldn't I move?

Focusing my mind on my finger, I commanded it to lift and simply tap my other hand. Now move. Do it. Nothing. It stayed in place. I tried my toes. Not even a twitch. I wasn't dead, no, I was still breathing. That made no sense. Why wasn't I moving? I wasn't unconscious and I had not fainted: one doesn't recognize those states until they wake up. There were no traumatic injuries and I had eaten or drank anything of questionable nature. What was it?

The voice of my father immediately penetrated my thoughts. Sorcery. That seemed like a logical explanation and that certainly was not the first time it had been used against me. Oh let me guess. It was another plot to try to take over or destroy Camelot. Why not just murder me in my sleep? Surely that had to be simpler. It made me wonder why no one had tried to do that before. As past experiences have proven, security at Camelot was far from top notch. The knights, though skillful and honorable, were utterly incompetent when it came to simple security procedures. Especially when it came to anything magically related which was exceptionally inconvenient considering all of Camelot's major problems were often attributed to magic.

There was a knock on the door and I tried to turn my head but my body did not listen. I tried to shout "Come in!" but my lips would not move and my vocal cords would not stir. Very frustrating.

The door opened slowly, the old hinges creaking slightly in protest. "Sire, you are to meet with your father in an hour," the familiar voice of my manservant called gently. Hearing the voice when I was already awake was far less irritating than when it woke me up. Merlin actually did take some consideration with waking me, it seemed. Usually his voice sounded like an overexcited child when it was the very first sound I heard that day. I tried to answer him again but to no avail.

His footsteps approached my bedside and I felt his hand on my shoulder. "Sire, it's time to wake up," he tried again. Yes, yes, I know imbecile. I was awake but to him, apparently, I was asleep. He chuckled lightly and I heard his footsteps fade slightly and a light thud. Clothes against the table in my room, he was setting my laundry down. He approached again and I felt my mattress dip when he sat on the side. He shook my shoulder, "Sire," he said with some amusement in his tone, "I know the meetings are dreadful but you need to go. Don't tell me the Gwen has kept you up all night," he joked. Very funny, Merlin. Normally, I would have 'woken up' and promptly punched him for such suggestions but my situation only allowed me to mentally punch him. It was not satisfactory.

He tapped my cheek lightly with his fingertips. "Sire, come on, you need to get up," he said, sounding less amused. He sighed and took hold of my shoulders and lifted my upper body off of my bed. It was like handling a training dummy: my body was practically lifeless in his hands. He shook me and continued to talk. "Sire, this isn't funny". No it wasn't funny. I certainly wasn't laughing. I was helpless in my bed, missing an important meeting, and being molested by my manservant. There was nothing funny about the situation.

"Sire?" he gripped by shoulders tightly, a twinge of concern coating his tone. "Sire? Arthur?" he shook me with a little more force. He let go and my body fell limply onto my bed. I felt his head against my chest then he pressed two fingers to my wrist and then my neck. I was breathing, idiot. "Arthur, you need to wake up," he said after he seemed to have confirmed that I was, indeed, alive. He pinched my cheek, hard. Nothing, not even a twitch. "Are you awake now, Sire?"

Why yes, Merlin, I was awake but I could make no confirmation of that fact. His hands released me suddenly and I could hear the light pat of flesh against flesh. Mentally, I pictured him dragging his palm across his face and through his short hair as he so often did when he was frustrated…or panicking. It usually seemed to be the latter. "Ah, okay," he said breathily, as if he was trying not to let the aforementioned panic enter his tone. "I'm going to go get your father and Gaius, just stay there. Or even better, get up!" he made a strange sound that sounded like a combination of a turkey and idiotic babbling. "I'll be right back".

He rushed out of the room and slammed the door behind him. Really, he needed to learn to be more careful with that door. It was older that Gaius was. It was a wonder that termites hadn't chewed through it or any of the water damage the castle had sustained over the years hadn't rotted it away. Why was I thinking about a door? There were more important matters at hand. Why couldn't I move? I thought back to the previous night. I had gone to bed just fine. Took off my shirt, put on more comfortable pants, drank some water, read a book for a few minutes, blew out my candle, and went to sleep. Could it have been the water? It wasn't as if someone hadn't tried to poison me before but usually in something as bland as water any sort of poison was detectable. I really should have listened to my father when he suggested having Merlin supervise all the food that was delivered to me, even though Merlin was the one to deliver most of it. Including last night's water. Given his panicked response and what I already knew about the imbecile, he would not have done such a thing. There couldn't have been a problem with the water supply either otherwise there would be dozens of others suffering from the same affliction.

So that ruled out poison in the water and my thoughts went back to magic being the cause of my condition. It must be a curse or a spell of some sort because, to my knowledge, no potions or charms were used on me. Someone must have snuck into my room in the middle of the night and recited some sort of incantation to put me into this conscious slumber. The best way I could describe it is that state when one is just falling asleep or just waking up, warm and comfortable with closed eyes, yet not totally aware of their body's needs: food, water, bathroom, etc. God, I hoped that I did not need to use the restroom and not be able to get up and do so. That would be humiliating. Though at that moment, I did not feel as if I had to eat or go to the bathroom. All I could do was hope that it would remain that way until Gaius could come and figure out what was wrong with me. He was usually good about such things: medically or magically related. My condition seemed to cover both areas.

My body heaved a sigh, pulling more oxygen into my lungs as if I was just having a peaceful sleep. It was strange how my body continued to imitate sleep yet my mind seemed to be an entirely separate entity. I was trapped in a body that was functioning on its own accord. It was my body, I knew it was, yet it was not mine to control. Had to be a spell or a curse. I had never heard of an illness that would cause such symptoms. I could only wait for Gaius, perhaps he could shed some light on my situation.

In the meanwhile, there was little I could do but ponder my situation. I tried to focus on my body again: I could definitely feel it but I could not make it obey my mind otherwise. I could feel sunlight on my chest and face, I felt Merlin's hands on my shoulders, and his fingers when he pinched my cheeks. I could hear everything around me: people chattering in the town below the castle as they went about their morning work, the clanging of knight's swords as they did their morning training, the mumbling of servants as they passed by my chambers, the twittering of birds, the occasional bray of a noisy horse, if anything I felt as though I could hear much better than I ever could have. Smell, my sense of smell seemed to be relatively the same. At least, I couldn't notice anything out of the ordinary. I was told once that the castle had a very odd scent to it. Merlin described it as a combination of wet stone (apparently that's a scent when one comes from a village built on mud, straw, and bovine excrements), various herbal and floral scents (his village had not discovered perfumes or potpourri yet), roasted meat (another luxury), and all of that competing the variety of smells from the room below.

I recalled an odd conversation with Gwen about the way my room smelled:

_"It smells like boy in here," she said with a smile and a light laugh. _

_ "Like 'boy'? How do you mean?"_

_ "Well, it's just that most men's rooms have a similar scent. I just never really noticed it in your room until now. I just found it strange considering you're the prince and all because Uther's room smells like potpourri," she explained. _

_ I stared at her as if she had said the strangest thing I had ever heard. "I don't know which implication to nag you about first: the fact that you've been in the rooms of so many men that you can distinguish that men have a particular scent, that you find it odd that I'm not a clone of my father, or that you think I'm a sissy girl."_

_ She immediately began to talk quickly, adorably, to try to correct or rephrase what she had said. She continued to do so until I assured her that I was only joking with her, in which she responded by hitting me lightly on the arm with the back of her hand. _

Would Gwen visit me? Of course she would if my condition did not change. Undoubtedly she would stay by my side as long as her duties allowed her to do so. Morgana would most likely give her permission to stay with me longer. I would not be surprised if she even decided to sleep in my room, just to monitor my condition. She was always there for Morgana when she was ill or was badly afflicted with one of her recurring nightmares, I could not see why she would not do the same for me, especially considering the relationship we had. Hell, she had spent a few nights in my _bed _without me being ill she would definitely stay by my bedside to tend to me. I do not mean to imply that Gwen and I had any sort of inappropriate relations with one another. Gwen was a traditional girl and I was expected to be "pure" as well until marriage. I respected her wishes.

My knights laughed at me for my attitude towards sex. Oh sure, they could go off and have a romp around with a girl they met at a tavern but I could not. Would not. It was not as if I had no desire to or if I didn't have any suitors. Of course I did, I was Prince Arthur, a young man and a royal who had the same needs as any other man but infinitely more responsibility. Let me be clear, I had no problem with sex, I just could not let myself participate in such actions until marriage. Not because I was afraid of sinning or because I could not let people find out. The potential consequences could be disastrous. If the woman of my choosing were to get pregnant and if anyone found out, not only would my reputation be tainted but I would have an illegitimate heir to the throne which could jeopardize the Pendragon dynasty. That was a risk I could not take. No, I would wait until I had said my vows. It was better that way…even if my knights did tease me. I could just put them in the stocks for the afternoon if deemed necessary.

Speaking of putting people in the stocks, my favorite person to torment returned. He slammed open the door, hurting my heightened hearing, and his boots tapped the ground lightly when he approached me. "I've tried waking him several times but he won't budge."

"Gaius, what do you think it is?" I heard my father ask. He sounded concern. I could picture his brow wrinkling, slightly awkwardly, around that long scar on his forehead.

There was a sigh, "Give me a moment, Sire, all I know is what Merlin has told me," my mattress dipped when he sat beside me, "Now, let me see…" Gaius lifted my hand and pressed his fingers against my wrist. "His hands are warm and he has a strong pulse, so that's fine," he gently replaced my hand and felted my neck. "Lymph nodes aren't swollen," his cool fingers touched my eyelids and opened them individually. Yet, I could not see still. He continued to touch various places on my body and eventually had Merlin roll me over on my stomach so he could check my back, spine in particular, for any abnormalities. He paused on one part of my back, his fingers pressing down hard and moving clockwise, "Merlin, be sure he gets a massage later, he has muscle knots."

"Yes, Gaius."

"What's wrong with him, Gaius?" said my impatient father.

There was another sigh and I felt myself being pushed onto my back. A second set of hands, presumable Merlin's, helped and then pulled my bed sheets over my chest. "He just appears to be asleep, your highness. However, this is no normal sleep. Some parts of his body seem to have become dormant. His vitals are working; lungs, heart, etcetera, but his digestive track, as far as I could tell, has very little activity. His state is reminiscent of hibernation, like you would see in a bear."

"Sounds like the work of sorcery."

Called it. First conclusion my father jumped to was that it must be magic. Can't I just be a bear once, father? What if I'm just a sleeping bear? If I were a bear, father would be too embarrassed to have me come to all of these dreadfully important and simultaneously dreadfully boring meetings. Father would look at the kings of neighboring kingdoms and say, 'This is my son Arthur. He is eleven feet tall and covered in hair. Please excuse the putrid fish smell that ruminates from him. But, by god, he is the best knight in the land. Doesn't even need armor since he turned into a bear.' Though, in all seriousness, I would not like to be a bear. I almost hoped that it was the work of magic. In my limited experience, most magic is reversible somehow. Just needed the right thing to break me out of this sleep-like state.

One weight lifted from my bed but there was still another one, presumably either Gaius or Merlin was still sitting by my side. A few soft, slightly uneven footsteps: must be Gaius. "It very well may be, but sleeping enchantments tend to be very powerful and there are numerous varieties. Some only last temporarily, so he may wake up in a few days' time. Others may last until the enchantment is broken and until we figure out exactly what spell has been used or he will continue to sleep."

"I will set out a search team to look for the sorcerer. He or she could not have gone too far," I heard my father's heavy footsteps fade and the door to my chambers slam. There was a faint shout: him calling for the guards, and then nothing.

There was a hand on my forehead, brushing hair from my face. "Do you think he'll be alright, Giaus?" my servant asked, sounding more concerned than I expected him to. Not that I expected him to not be concerned at all, but there was something in his voice that seemed a little more intense than worry. Or my mind was playing tricks on me. It was difficult to determine one's emotions based upon their voice alone.

"I'm not sure. We need to figure out what ails him or what the enchantment used is. Knowing Uther, he will be prepared to go to any means necessary to help Arthur," a light patting sound. I pictured Gaius clapping a hand on Merlin's shoulder. "You stay here and tend to Arthur."

"I do little else," there was his typical banter. I noticed he had a tendency to be more of a smartass than usually when under some sort of stress. At least, that's what I hoped it was. Perhaps when he or I were in some sort of mortal danger he hoped to deter inevitable doom via comedic insults. Unfortunately, jokes do little when it comes to life and death.

I remember once that Morgana told me that every time one laughs, five seconds are added onto their life. I believed it when I was little, maybe five, and for about a week I laughed and laughed and laughed. I laughed during meals, when I went to bed, and when I interrupted my father during important council meetings. When my father asked me what was so funny, I told him with pride_, "I am going to live forever!" to which he responded most unfavorably. He sent me to my chambers and had Gaius check for signs of illness or of witchcraft. About twelve unpleasant tests later and after swallowing a strange mixture of goat's milk, grass (though that might have been mixed with the milk), olive oil, lard, and beetle juice, I decided that I was done laughing. Morgana just seemed confused. She asked to sleep in my chambers that night and when she snuggled next to me she said, "I'm sorry, Arthur. I don't think living forever would be that much fun anyways."_

_ "Why not? I never want to die! I want to be King Arthur," I stood up on my bed and made a dramatic pose, "the finest King Camelot will ever know! My reign will be immortal!"_

_ "Yeah, but what if you look like Gaius the rest of your life? Old, wrinkly, with shaky hands and a bad back. You could look like an old bulldog forever," she tugged on my pant leg and I lost my balance, falling ungracefully on my backside. "That's why I don't laugh."_

_ "You don't laugh?" I asked._

_ "Nope!"_

_ "Well, we'll see about that!" I pounced on her and tickled and jabbed at her ribs until she could scarcely catch her breath. "Say thank you, I probably just added an hour onto your life."_

Hopefully Merlin did not try to force me to laugh in my "sleep". Though I believe he is still childish enough to think there is some merit in those old wives tales. Hence the reason he makes jokes whenever his life is in danger: he just wants five more seconds. Honestly, I don't understand how that boy could put himself in danger so often. He's not a knight but he still accompanies me on dangerous missions. He's not a knight, but he will fight tooth and nail to protect Camelot. He's not a knight, but he is one of the bravest (which, in his cause, is synonymous with "idiotic") men I have ever met. Strange boy, very strange boy.

Gaius left the room, leaving just me and Merlin. I could hear him bustling about, cleaning my things. There was an all too familiar clang of armor and then a weight on my bed again. The smell of polish and soap wafted over to me and I felt a tickle in my nose. It twitched and I sneezed.

"Arthur?" Merlin touched my arm. "Are you awake?" he shook it lightly. His hands were damp from cleaning supplies. He let out a breath of disappointment, "You know what would have been absolutely horrible, Arthur? If you had a stuffy nose. When you sneezed, snot would have gotten all over your face."

And guess who would have to clean it up?

"And it would be more horrible for me because guess who would be responsible for making sure that your royal nostrils are booger-free? Me," there was a clink of armor and the light squeaking of wet cotton against metal. He had gone back to cleaning, "I really don't want to be on snot-patrol. If I could, I would just let you lie there with mucus all over your face. Probably your pillow too. I've seen the amount of snot that comes out of that nose, I've washed your handkerchiefs! If snot was worth anything at all I'm sure you could go out and _buy_ another kingdom," he paused, "does it even work like that? Can you just purchase another kingdom if you were willing to pay enough? I know Uther wouldn't give into such bribes, but it's food for thought."

I could hear the tinkling of metal against metal. Sounded like my chainmail. I was surprised someone as scrawny as Merlin could even lift it. Then again, I've made him lift heavier things. One time he let my horse loose on accident and I made him carry a chariot. He only got a few meters.

"You know, I actually think I've grown to enjoy polishing your armor. It's almost soothing for me now, sort of like doing the dishes. Except you don't wear dishes," I felt a weight on my leg. "Why am I even talking to you still? I don't even know if you can hear me. Though, to be quite honest, I would almost prefer to be a loon talking to myself than have had you hear my entire rant about your royal mucus."

Too bad, Merlin, I could hear. Loud and clear. When I woke up, the first thing I would do is wipe my royal nose all over that lovely neckerchief that he never seemed to part with. Then he could sell that to one of my stalkers. I knew I had them. Most of them were creepy, younger, girls who dreamed of one day marrying a handsome prince. To most girls in Camelot, I was the only one who matched that image. It came with being a royal, I guess.

I tried to open my eyes again, just because I wanted to see exactly what Merlin was up to. No such luck. Utter darkness. I tried to open my mouth with no avail. I wanted to tell him to clean my armor somewhere other than on my bed. That had to be unsanitary, somehow. Sure it was cleaning product and soap and water, but he did know where that armor had been. It had been soiled with blood, dirt, sweat, and grime from every day wear and tear. Merlin probably did not even know the first thing about sanitation. I had seen his room with his dirty, moth bitten bed sheets and a tiny pile of unwashed clothes. He scarcely had any clothes! In my memory, I can remember him owning one pair of boots, one jacket, three shirts, two neckerchiefs, and maybe two pairs of pants. Either he did his own laundry every day or he was re-wearing his dirty clothes.

Once, I had an idea to buy him new clothes. I mean, Gwen and the other servants always dressed decently. Merlin was the only one who looked like a homeless man who had infiltrated the citadel. Gwen knew how to sew. Perhaps when I woke I would ask if she would be so kind to make Merlin some new outfits. Ones that made him look like he at least somewhat belonged in the presence of royalty and not some sort of street urchin.

The doors to my chambers opened once again. "Gaius," Merlin addressed, placing the chainmail over my legs. "Have you figured out anything? You were gone less than an hour."

"No, Merlin. I wanted to ask, when was the last time Arthur ate?"

I heard him scratch his head. Don't do that on my bed. Dandruff is repulsive. "I'm not entirely sure. I know he retired early and didn't have supper, so I'm guessing his last meal was midday yesterday."

"And you give him all of his food."

"To my knowledge, yes, Gaius."

"Watch it be prepared or prepare it yourself, correct?"

"Of course. Why?"

"Well I was just asking for information's sake. If the enchantment was ingested, then it should just pass through his system and he should wake up in a day or so," Well didn't that sound just lovely. I really did not want to soil myself. The great prince Arthur pooped his pants; his knights would never let that one go. Though I felt absolutely no need to go to the restroom that could all change in the matter of a few hours. "We should probably try to get some food and water into him, see if that wakes up his digestive track at all. Do you know how to do that, Merlin?"

He stood up, "Yes of course, get a towel, soak it in water, and slowly wring it out over his lips so it doesn't make him cough or choke. I'll get a pitcher and a clean towel," he started out of the room.

"And food, Merlin?"

"Something soft, I would guess? I could get some soup or oatmeal," there was a light tap of fingers on the door, "I'll go see what the kitchen has in stock."

"Merlin," Gaius said with a little more force.

An exasperated sigh, "Don't tell me."

"He'll need something more than broth and oats. He's not a horse."

"I'm going to have to pre-chew food for him, aren't I?"

Wait. What? No, no, no, no, no. There was no way I was going eat regurgitated Merlin saliva. That was disgusting. No. Why, Gaius? What did I ever do to him? Was this some sort of cruel and unusual punishment? Was this revenge for the time I vomited on his shoes after I had too much to drink. Whatever I did, Gaius, I was sincerely sorry.

Merlin made a whining sound. "What should I get for him?"

"Meat and vegetables, we need to keep his body strong. And get that look off of your face, Merlin, there are worse parts of a physician's job and this is the very least of it," he scolded, sounding like a father and a mentor at the same time.

Another whine. "Can't someone else do it? It's Arthur! I-I can't."

"Merlin, not another word."

There was a pause. I could picture Gaius staring firmly at Merlin's puppy dog eyes. Footsteps faded from the room.

I needed to wake up. _Now._


End file.
